


You Deserve It All

by Rearviewdreamer



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Harry Needs Help, Louis is just the one to get the job done, M/M, Shopping, clothing shop, graduation party, making ex's jealous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 05:03:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7671145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rearviewdreamer/pseuds/Rearviewdreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just once Harry would like to face his ex and feel confident, but he's shit at confronting Nick and unfortunately his shopping skills aren't much better. Thankfully for him, the cute sales boy at the clothing shop knows a thing or two about fashion and making ex boyfriends green with envy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Deserve It All

**Author's Note:**

> (This is the result of me never fully recovering from that time Harry wore white jeans. Don't judge)

Harry raises an eyebrow at the mannequin standing before him and contemplates whether or not he could pull off a color as bold as- Harry leans closer to read the label on the tag, frowning because the blouse is creatively described as ‘Banana Macaroon Blast’ and costs more than three-fourths of the things currently in Harry’s closet at home.  
  
He glances down the heap of clothing he’s already holding in his arms. He’s been picking up anything and everything that catches his eye to try on, but something very smart and very wise in the back of Harry’s mind tells him that a shirt brighter than the bloody sun is something that should probably stay right where it is. Harry glances at the blouse again before walking away. He doesn’t own anything nearly this exciting and although it’s hands down the loudest thing in the shop, it would definitely make a statement. Nick would definitely notice him, that’s for sure.  
  
The thought of Nick seeing him in this and being rendered speechless is almost enough to make Harry pick up the shirt and add it to the pile, but then he remembers that he wants Nick to see him and salivate rather than regurgitate so he sticks with his original plan and leaves the heinous thing behind.  
  
The fitting room feels more like a battle ground when he steps inside and lays out all of his selections. Harry thinks he probably picked up half of the shit in the shop, but he needs his outfit for tomorrow to be perfect, and well, desperate times call for desperate measures.  
  
He begins with the pair of ripped up blue jeans he saw upon entering the shop and a simple red t-shirt he thought might look nice on him. Harry stands back from the mirror to see himself once he’s got them on. The shirt fits him well and the jeans fit okay too, but they’re light-wash, so Harry isn’t too sure about them. He really wishes his friends would’ve come with him on this shopping trip because he’s never been good at this kind of thing.  
  
Harry deems the outfit acceptable before he takes it off. He folds it up and sits it off to the side as a ‘maybe’ in case he doesn’t like any of the other things he chose.  
  
Harry stares down his clothes again, going for the black skinny jeans this time paired with the blue and white printed button-up he saw displayed in the shop window. He pulls on both pieces and is quite pleased with the result. The jeans look a lot like the ones he came in here wearing so there’s not much change there except that they’re much nicer and aren’t at all faded. The shirt he picked is nice too. He likes the pattern of the little geometric shapes that are printed so close together that the shirt could pass for a solid light-blue color from far enough away. The clothes fit him pretty well, just loose enough and just long enough that Harry feels completely comfortable in them, but comfort isn’t really what he’s after right now. He needs to look good; hot. And Harry just doesn’t know if this outfit is going to cut it. Especially when he twists in the mirror to check out his own arse and realizes that the blouse he’s so fond of covers a large portion of it.  
  
Liam or Niall really should’ve come with him, he thinks again. They aren’t master shoppers or fashion gurus or anything like that, but his friends are much better at this than he is. He needs help. He needs someone to tell him whether or not this outfit looks okay so Harry pokes his head out of the dressing room to find somebody. Some kind, benevolent soul to assist him.  
  
His eyes do a scan of the shop and there’s no one near the back of it except for an old woman who just grabbed that horrible macaroon shirt and smiled (Harry shudders) and a group of boys who look to be about twelve years old (Harry grimaces). He doesn’t need the help of someone who is obviously colorblind (honestly, this woman’s poor husband), and he doesn’t relish the thought of going to prison either (he’ll opt out of any situation that requires pre-teens to check out his bum). He quickly decides against asking any of them for their opinion of his appearance.  
  
The only other person within hearing distance is a man who is busy folding shirts over at one of the clothing shelves. Harry hates to disturb the man from his work, but he’s struggling right now and this guy seems pretty fashionable from what Harry can tell. He’s wearing a burgundy t-shirt that hugs him in all of the right places along his back, however, it’s the dark skinny jeans and the way they’re rolled up at the ankles that sell Harry and convince him that this man is more than capable of giving fashion advice.  
  
“Excuse me,” Harry whispers in his direction. It obviously wasn’t loud enough because the boy merely pauses for a moment like he possibly heard something before going back to folding. “Um- Excuse me,” Harry says a bit louder. This time the boy stills and looks up from his work like he thinks he may be going mad. He glances to either side of him but doesn’t notice Harry until he turns around.  
  
“Did- Did you just say something?” he asks, looking incredibly confused.  
  
“Yeah. I was trying to get your attention a second ago, but you couldn’t really hear me,” Harry explains with a wince. “Sorry. I didn’t want to bother you,” he tacks on since the boy had to abandon his post in order to speak to him. Harry is relieved when the boy snorts and waves him off like his interruption is a blessing.  
  
“Oh, don’t worry about it. The store’s dead. What can I do for you?” he asks with a bright, obliging smile. Harry is momentarily distracted by how lovely it is. Actually, Harry had only noticed the man’s clothing before, but now that he’s paying attention, Harry sees that this man, Louis, as his nametag reads, is way more than just good fashion sense and a nice back. He’s gorgeous too. “So…is there something you need?” the man asks with a raise of his eyebrow when Harry still hasn’t said anything.  
  
“Y-Yes. There is. I need some help. Your help actually. Um, would you mind telling me what you think about this outfit? I have a thing I have to go to this weekend.” Harry opens the door wider so Louis can see him properly. Louis looks him over for a couple of seconds and then raises his eyebrows in approval.  
  
“I think it looks good,” Louis grins. “It’s nice.”  
  
Harry’s little smile quickly falls. Only nice? Great.  
  
“Oh. Okay, then. That’s good to know. Thanks,” Harry says, sighing dejectedly before letting the fitting room door close again. He’s still examining himself in the mirror, pulling at the fabric of the shirt to see if maybe he needs to go up a size when he hears a quick tapping against his door. Harry cracks it open to find Louis standing there.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he begins, looking a bit guilty. “It’s just- You asked me for my opinion a second ago and when I gave it I couldn’t help but notice that you looked kind of disappointed. Is everything alright?”  
  
“Yes, everything is fine,” he lies. Louis raises an unconvinced eyebrow that pulls the truth right out of him. Harry huffs in defeat and shakes his head. “Okay, no. Not really.”  
  
“I figured as much,” he says kindly. “Alright, lets start over. I’m Louis. What’s your name?”  
  
“Harry.”  
  
“It’s nice to meet you, Harry. Now. Harry, tell me what it is that you’re looking for? Why are you shopping with us today?”  
  
Harry sighs again, wondering if he’s really going to tell this random man about his sad, sad life. “Do you really want to know?” he asks.  
  
“Yes,” Louis smiles. “I really want to know.” And, okay then. Harry tried to spare him.  
  
“It’s a long story, but I was dating this guy a year ago who ended up cheating on me with his assistant who also happened to be one of my close mates. We broke up and I vowed to never speak to my ex again, but stupid me forgot that all of my friends just happen to be friends with his friends, so every time we all get together I’m forced to see him and he always looks good, and he’s always with someone new, and this Saturday is my friend’s grad school graduation party and just this once I want to show up to one of these events and be the one who looks good and looks like he’s moved on instead of always feeling like a complete idiot.”  
  
Louis’ eyes grow wide when Harry finishes his story in one breath. He stares at Harry, slack-jawed with a look of absolute mortification. “ _Oh my, God_ ,” he grimaces.  
  
“Yeah, I know. I’m pathetic,” Harry mutters.  
  
“No,” Louis frowns, “I meant oh my god because you can’t wear that.” Harry blinks down at his ensemble. He didn’t think it was that bad. “I mean, your ex is a dick and so is your friend, and I’m sorry you had to go through that, but that shirt’s too big for you, those jeans aren’t nearly tight enough, and the shoes you walked in here with look older than you. Sorry, but it’s true,” Louis says when Harry feels his expression turn defensive. He really likes his boots. His mother bought them.  
  
Harry throws his hands up because he’s fresh out of ideas here. “Well, what am I supposed to do? I don’t have anything in my closet that’s good enough, and I obviously can’t shop for shit…maybe I should just stay home tomorrow,” he mutters petulantly since Louis hates literally everything he’s wearing.  
  
“Harry, you’re not staying home. Tomorrow, you’re going to face your cheating, dickhole of an ex-boyfriend. What you need is an _outfit of revenge_. He has to know what he’s missing! He has to see what he threw away and regret his entire existence!” Harry turns to look in the mirror at his reflection. He wants to make Nick feel like an idiot alright, but he didn’t realize this was a thing that people other than himself experience. It’s a good thing Louis was here to stop him from buying these clothes that are apparently unworthy of such a mission.  
  
“So, what should I wear?” Harry asks him, still lost as ever on how to chose a proper ‘outfit of revenge’ as Louis called it.  
  
“All you have to do is hand me all of that stuff that’s in your dressing room. It’s going back in the shop and I’m going to find an outfit for you that’s more appropriate and fits your needs.”  
  
“O- Oh. Um, okay, then,” Harry says as he grabs up all of the items he’d picked out for himself including the red shirt he tried on earlier. He really liked that one.  
  
Harry strips out of his black jeans and the blue and white printed shirt and pushes them over the door of the changing room for Louis to put back. Harry waits on the little bench in nothing but his boxer-briefs, wondering if letting Louis chooses his clothes for him is a good idea considering they just met. He’s dressed pretty well himself and he seems to know what he’s talking about, so Harry figures he can handle it. He’s still a bit nervous to see what he chooses.  
  
He doesn’t have to wait for long before Louis is quickly rapping at the door. Harry cracks it open and gasps when Louis holds up the infamous macaroon shirt with a bright smile to accompany it.  
  
“Er- Wow,” Harry grins. “That’s a really yellow shirt. It’s so… yellow. I love it.” Harry reaches out to take it and Louis bursts out laughing so loud that he catches the attention of nearly everyone in the store.  
  
“I’m just fucking with you. This shirt is awful. I just wanted to see your reaction,” he says once he’s able to stop himself from cackling in Harry’s face. “These are what I really picked out for you.” Louis hands him a pair of white skinny jeans and a pale, flowery button-up so thin that Harry can see his own hand through the other side of it.  
  
“Louis, I can’t wear white jeans. And- Does this even qualify as a shirt? I can see right through it,” he squawks.  
  
“That’s kind of the point,” Louis smirks.  
  
Harry checks the labels sewed into the clothes and turns to Louis again. “And both of these are too small. I’ll need a size larger,” Harry explains knowing that his legs and shoulders alone will take up half the fabric.  
  
“No, love. You really, really don’t,” Louis says after a quick appraisal of Harry’s half-naked body. Harry opens his mouth to protest some more, however Louis’ comment causes him to blush and forget what he was going to say. “Try them on and then come out when you’re all finished. I want to see,” Louis smiles before shutting Harry’s door, leaving him with his arms full of clothes so skimpy that he feels like he’s holding air.  
  
Against his better judgment, Harry tackles the jeans first. He faces the mirror as he’s tugging them on, wondering if Louis has any vats of grease or oil laying around, because he figures that’s the only way he’s going to squeeze his thighs into them. Getting the jeans on takes more work than he’s used to and he has to adjust his dick more than he anticipated, but eventually the jeans are on his body. Harry takes a look at them, scandalized at first because the white fabric hides nothing, but the more Harry looks, the more Harry likes the fit of them. He turns to examine his bum and gives himself a stamp of approval because not only is it visible, but it looks really good if he does say so himself. So, maybe Louis isn’t completely insane, Harry decides as he picks up the shirt- lingerie- whatever the hell it is.  
  
The flowers on the shirt are faint and small where they’re printed in circular patterns. Harry unfastens it and slips it onto his shoulders and he’s genuinely shocked when it doesn’t feel too tight. Again, point for Louis. Harry buttons it up, stopping at the center of his chest instead of going all the way up to his neck. The sleeves hang down past his wrists, so Harry takes the time to loosely roll them up his forearms, playing with the fabric until it lays just the way he wants.  
  
Harry takes a long look at himself in the mirror once he’s fully dressed and can’t find a single fault with anything he’s wearing. He still thinks the jeans are too tight. His dick feels the same way, but he feels like someone who’s confident and he looks like someone who could make their ex jealous without saying a single word, so mission accomplished.  
  
When he opens the door he finds Louis sitting directly across from him, perched on one of the empty clothing shelves as he waits. Harry steps out into the shop and watches Louis’ face morph into an expression of sheer wonder. He hops down from the shelf and makes his way over to Harry with his mouth slightly hanging open.  
  
“God, look at you!” Louis says as he circles him for inspection. “How do you feel? How do you like it?!”  
  
“I think it looks alright,” Harry shrugs with a modest grin.  
  
“Alright?” Louis spits. “You look fucking hot. Those jeans were made for your legs and don’t even get me started on your arse.”  
  
“I know,” Harry laughs bashfully. “I didn’t even realize that I had one in that other outfit.”  
  
“I did,” Louis says proudly. “I saw it swimming it those huge jeans you had on and it was my civic duty to rescue it.” Harry laughs at that, thankful that Louis is such a dutiful citizen and clothing shop employee. “Wait here,” Louis says after giving Harry another once-over.  
  
Harry stands there feeling like he’s on display until Louis comes back with an arm full of random items he pulled from all over the store. He hands Harry a couple of silver chains with small pendants to hang around his neck as well as a few rings for his naked fingers. He asks Harry what his shoe size is and then flashes him a smirk when it turns out that he guessed right as he hands off a pair of brown boots with a thick heel. “You look _amazing_ ,” he exclaims loud enough for a few customers to look their way. Harry blushes from the attention, but mostly because Louis’ eyes are slowly making their way from where his thighs are screaming against the fabric of his white jeans to where his tattoos are visible through his shirt.  
  
“Thanks, but this was all you. I picked out the sad jeans, remember?” Harry jokes.  
  
“I’m still trying to forget. Don’t ruin this for me,” Louis mutters. He smiles at Harry and then shakes his head as he continues to admire his handiwork. “You have to swear to come back here after your party so you can tell me how your ex shit himself once he saw you.”  
  
Harry chuckles. He doesn’t necessarily want Nick to shit himself. Making him regret the way he treated Harry, even if only for a split second would be reward enough.  
  
“I’ll come back,” Harry promises even though he’s about ninety-nine percent sure Louis only extended the invitation for his return as a joke.  
  
Harry ends up paying almost triple the amount that he originally intended, but this is a special circumstance. This is his outfit of revenge and it’s money well spent according to Louis. He seems to know a lot on the subject, so Harry takes his word for it.  
  
“I hope everything works out the way you want it to,” Louis says as he bags up his purchases. “I hope your ex begs for forgiveness or grovels at your new chelsea boots or whatever it is you want him to do,” Louis teases. Harry grins picturing Nick doing either of those things. An ‘I’m sorry,’ would be nice.  
  
“I don’t know about all of that,” Harry shrugs. “It’s just a new outfit after all.”  
  
“It’s a killer outfit. And I’m just curious, but are you going to do anything with your hair for the occasion?”  
  
Harry pauses and runs a self-conscious hand through his long curls. “Uh- I was just going to wear it like this?” Harry says, now wondering if that’s a bad move. Louis gives him a flat look of reprimand that has Harry searching his brain for a new answer. “I’m going to…do something to it? Something sexy?” he tries.  
  
“I believe the word _haircut_ is what you’re looking for.”  
  
Harry sucks in a sharp breath, defensively holding onto his locks that graze his chest. He hasn’t cut his hair in over a year. Not since before Nick broke up with him. “ _All_ of it?” Harry squeaks.  
  
“No, Harry, of course not. Your hair is beautiful. I’d actually be quite sad if you chopped it off,” Louis blushes. “I just meant that maybe you could get a small trim. Everybody needs a trim every now and then,” he grins.  
  
Harry breathes a sigh of relief. He trusts Louis’ opinion on clothing, but getting rid of all of his hair is something else entirely. Louis said just a trim. He could go for a nice trim. There’s nothing wrong with that.  
  
“I guess I could get the dead ends cut off. I have been kind of neglecting them,” Harry agrees.  
  
“Only if you think it’s a good idea,” Louis grins at him.  
  
He’s been overdue for a haircut for a while now. “I’ll get it done today,” Harry decides as he stuffs his wallet back into his pocket.  
  
“Perfect,” Louis beams. “There’s a salon next door. Tell them I sent you. I’ve been going there for years. Actually, wait, let me call them.” Louis dials a string of numbers from the shop phone, letting it ring for a full minute before someone finally picks up. “Hey, El. So, I have a mate coming your way in a few minutes. His name’s Harry and he needs you to work your magic because he has a miserable, cheating, dickhead of an ex-boyfriend. I know, right? Anyway, he’s got a head full of luscious, beautiful curls and an empty wallet mostly thanks to me, so maybe be nice and do me a favor because you love me?” he asks in the sweetest voice Harry’s ever heard. Louis does some more bargaining, promising the person on the other line everything besides a kidney in exchange for their cooperation. “YES! You’re amazing. I’m sending him now!” Louis says when the person agrees.  
  
Louis claps his hands together once he hangs up. “She says she’s just finishing up with a client but you’re next and it’s on the house because I’m an annoying prat and her best friend.”  
  
Harry is honestly speechless. He didn’t expect any of this when he walked into this shop. He just wanted a new shirt and a cheap pair of jeans.  
  
“Louis, thank you so much for everything. I can’t believe you just did that for me. You might be the best person ever.”  
  
Harry notices the way his cheeks turn just the slightest shade of pink before he grins down at the register with a soft ‘you’re welcome.’ “Well, you better get going or El will have both of our heads.”  
  
Harry nods, and turns to leave. He wishes Louis could come with him.  
  
“How much longer do you have to work?”  
  
“About an hour,” Louis sighs. “Why? What’s up?”  
  
“Nothing, it’s just…you should stop by after work to see me,” Harry shrugs. Louis’ eyes widen in surprise at his invite and Harry mentally berates himself for sounding so forward. Honestly. He might as well have invited him to fuck in a salon chair. “I mean, my hair. To see my hair afterwards and tell me if it looks okay?” Harry corrects himself and Louis snorts a laugh under his breath.  
  
“Yeah, I’ll come over,” Louis agrees, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement and what looks to be fondness. “Hopefully you’ll still be there by the time I get to leave?”  
  
“I’ll still be there,” Harry promises before turning to walk out of the shop with a happy little quirk of his lips that wasn’t present when he entered it.  
  
*  
“Oh, my _God_ ,” Eleanor frowns in the mirror at him. “What is wrong with people?” she asks as she snips through the dead ends of his hair.  
  
“I know,” Harry sighs. “Louis said the same thing when I told him. I didn’t think he was going to help me out as much as he has, but I’m glad that he did. Luckily for me, I think he hates my ex just as much as I do,” Harry chuckles.  
  
El smirks as she continues moving through his hair with the shears. “I think it’s more than just your stupid ex that has Louis doting on you, my dear,” she says in the same knowing tone as earlier when she took one look at him walking through the door, shook her head, and mumbled to herself about Louis being full of transparent shit. Harry tries to hide his grin. He figured Louis was slightly fond of him; possibly even slightly attracted to him in some small, tiny way, but he didn’t want to assume. Eleanor glances at his overly pleased face in the mirror and rolls her eyes, fighting a grin of her own. “Boys are ridiculous,” she mutters as she continues working.  
  
Eleanor has just finished drying his hair and running mousse through it when the doors to the salon open and Louis busts inside.  
  
“You look so good!” he exclaims, coming over with an outstretched hand. “May I?” he asks, and Harry nods at him, eager for Louis to feel the luxurious new texture of his hair that Harry’s been obsessed with for the past five minutes. “It’s so bloody soft, El. Why don’t you ever do this to _my_ hair?” he snaps.  
  
“Because you refuse to sit still long enough for deep conditioning,” she quips as she sweeps the room.  
  
Louis scoffs at his friend, but quickly returns his attention back to Harry. “What do you think? Do you like it?” Louis asks once he’s finished touching.  
  
Harry looks at himself in the mirror and finds that he loves what he sees. His hair had gotten so long that it was past his shoulders and weighed down from how heavy it had gotten. Eleanor didn’t take off a lot, but she trimmed enough that his curls have life in them again with the way they shine and move with every turn of his head. “I think you were right and a trim every now and then doesn’t hurt. I feel really good. Almost like a new me,” he grins, and Louis’ eyes are so full of happiness for Harry when he looks at him. Harry’s stomach feels alive with the little flutters he feels at the pit of it.  
  
“I can’t wait to hear all about what happens tomorrow. You’re going to be so amazing. I just know it.”  
  
“You should go with him,” El says from across the room where she’s dumping Harry’s hair into the bin and clearly listening into their conversation. Harry can’t really say that he minds.  
  
Louis’ eyes cut over to his friend like she’s insane. “El, no. What are you even talking about? I can’t just go with Harry to his friends’ graduation party.”  
  
“And, why not?” Eleanor scoffs when Harry asks the same question.  
  
“Yeah, why not?” Harry asks when he can’t think of single reason why Louis shouldn’t accompany him.  
  
Louis rolls his eyes at El and then at him. “Harry, do not listen to her. She’s crazy and she’ll just pull you in. You don’t have to bring me to your party, mate. Really.”  
  
“He wants to go,” Eleanor sings at Harry when she passes by them to head to the back of the salon. “He’s _dying_ for you to invite him,” she calls out from the back room. “He’s just too afraid to say so!” she shouts from even further away.  
  
Louis’ face is as red as a tomato when Harry looks at him. His face could be flushed because he’s angry with Eleanor for being that friend, but Harry really doesn’t think that’s the case here since Louis is also having trouble holding his gaze where he’s blinking down at the floor.  
  
“Louis, would you like to come with me tomorrow? I don’t mind. Really.” It would actually be really nice to have somebody to talk to the whole time he’s there rather than wondering how Nick looks so good without even trying.  
  
“Harry, this is your big revenge event,” Louis tells him. “You’re supposed to be making your ex so jealous that he regrets the day he was born. You can’t do that with me tagging along.”  
  
Harry looks Louis up and down, certain that no other person on Earth could make Nick more jealous than this man. Louis is generous and sweet and everything that Nick isn’t; not to mention the fact that he’s fucking gorgeous.  
  
“Well, Nick always shows up to these things with somebody. Why can’t I this time? People bring other people to parties all the time,” Harry shrugs.  
  
Louis seems to think about that for a moment, still looking slightly unsure about the whole situation. “So, you’re saying I could be just another face in the crowd? A friend, and nobody would think it strange for me to be there?”  
  
Harry rolls his eyes at that. “You’ll be there with me. It’s not like you’d be crashing, and besides, you’ve been so helpful and amazing to me, Louis. Let me at least attempt to pay you back in the form of free barbeque and beer.” Louis stares him down for any sign of uncertainty, but there is none to be found with the way Harry grins at him. “Come on. You know you want to see Nick’s face in person,” he taunts. “That alone will make it worth it.”  
  
Louis pretends to think it over for another minute before finally caving. “Alright, Harry, you’ve sold me. You’re right. I cannot wait to see this fucker’s face,” he smirks.  
  
“Aaaand, you’re both welcome,” Eleanor smiles when she comes back to the front of the salon. “Now, keep in mind for the wedding that I’m quite partial to spring colors.”  
  
Louis shoots his friend a look of extreme annoyance. “El. We’re going as friends, woman. Did you not just hear the entire conversation Harry and I had?”  
  
She hums and nods as she continues cleaning up her workspace, ignoring Louis as if he said nothing at all. “Lilac would look great with my hair and skin tone,” she says to no one in particular. Harry makes a mental note of her color preference anyway. You know, in case he wants to thank her for the free haircut with a bouquet of flowers or whatever and not at all for the reason she just implied. And besides that, summer weddings are obviously the way to go.  
  
*  
  
It’s a quarter after three the next day when Harry nearly throws himself off of his sofa trying to dig his phone out from between the cushions to read the new text that comes through. He feels himself grin as soon as he realizes that the message is once again from Louis.  
  
Harry had given him his number before they left the salon yesterday, partly so Louis could give Harry his address so they can ride to the party together, mostly because Harry is certain that he would’ve died had he left without having a guaranteed way to speak to him again if for some reason Louis changed his mind about coming along.  
  
He figured Louis would play it cool and not text him unless it was something concerning the cookout, but he’s been pleasantly surprised since Louis woke up about two hours ago and has since complained about having no good food in his flat, too many blankets on his bed, and then proceeded to describe the dream he had the night before where he was reincarnated as a horse, but all the other horses on the farm were reincarnated from other, lesser beings like crickets, so he couldn’t have any stimulating horse conversations with them. Harry has dutifully responded to every message he has received, first telling Louis that he doesn’t need good food in his flat because Liam’s party will have all the free food he can eat. Second, that there’s no such thing as too many blankets, only too many clothes, and third, that Louis’ subconscious is fucked up because in his dream he could’ve come back as literally anything cool and his brain chose a pony.  
  
Those messages were fun and made Harry laugh because his new friend is not only sweet and kind, but as it turns out, Louis is also really laidback and funny (he’s kind of an idiot too, but at least he’s the good kind). This new message however; the one that Harry nearly broke his neck trying to read has his heartbeats coming at a quicker pace and the slight tingle of nerves he feels curling around the edges of his stomach.  
  
‘You ready for your grand entrance?’ is all it says.  
  
Harry usually spends the hours before an event at which he knows he’s going to see his ex in a proper brooding session, whining to anyone who will listen about how unfair it is that ‘over’ can never really mean over for them because Nick’s always there. Maybe it’s his new hair or the fact that he knows he’ll be in good company with Louis, but for whatever reason today, Harry feels none of that. He actually feels alright.  
  
‘I’ll be ready soon. I’m just about to get dressed, actually,’ Harry sends instead of sharing with Louis the warped mess of emotions that he’s really feeling. Or in his case today, not feeling. ‘I can be by to pick you up in about an hour?’  
  
‘Great! Plenty of time for me to shower and brush my mane,’ Louis replies. Harry cackles and nearly chokes on his own spit because Louis added seven horse emojis and one pig, which Harry assumes was meant for him.  
  
*  
  
Harry glances at the time when he arrives in front of Louis’ building. He’s early; about five whole minutes before he told Louis he’d be there, so Harry settles in to wait. He flips through all of the radio stations he has a couple of times and unfortunately hears nothing worth listening to. He begins flipping through them for a third time hoping to have better luck, but stops immediately when he hears the sharp tapping of someone trying to get his attention outside of the window. Harry’s heart shoots up to his throat at the sound, but it floats back down to it’s normal place of residence in his chest when he sees that culprit is merely Louis.  
  
Harry unlocks the doors and Louis slides in on the passenger’s side in a pair of dark jeans tight enough to rival his white ones and a sapphire-colored t-shirt that dips low on his chest, clings to every curve along his tiny waist, and compliments the crystal color of his eyes so well that they resemble a pair of blue diamonds illuminated and aimed right at Harry.  
  
“Harry, you look _amazing_!” Louis says with energy enough to make Harry forget that he’s already seen this outfit on him once, never mind the fact that he’s the one who picked it out. And, Christ, Louis smells so fucking good.  
  
“Th-Thanks,” is all he can get his mouth to push out. He wants to tell Louis that he looks incredible too, but first Harry has to help guide his brain past all of the incredibly inappropriate things that he’d prefer to say. He needs to formulate words that make sense and are genuine without letting Louis realize that Harry’s hands are currently clenched and resting in his lap because they had the sudden urge to reach out and touch when Louis got into the car.  
  
“What the hell are you listening to?” Louis asks all of a sudden.  
  
Harry follows Louis’ offended frown to where the radio is playing something agonizing, morose, and not even in bloody English.  
  
“You like opera?” Louis asks with a skeptical raise of an eyebrow. Harry quickly shakes his head, catching the sight of his own brilliant curls moving along his shoulders with each motion.  
  
“No. No, I- I was flipping through the radio and then you knocked and-” Louis laughs into his fist as Harry continues to ramble on about how he likes good music; cool music. “I’ll get rid of this. I’m sorry.” Harry reaches for the button to change the awful station but Louis stops him with a quick hand curled around his wrist.  
  
“Oh, no, you don’t!” he smirks. “Harry, I am not letting you deviate from what your theatrical soul truly longs for just because I’m in the car. We’re going to do this right. It’s educational,” he grins as the car fills with the sound of a woman who’s been holding the same high-pitched note since Louis got here.  
  
“It’s in Italian,” Harry deadpans.  
  
“Which is exactly why it’s educational. We’ll be fluent in no time,” he says brightly. Harry sighs at the mirth glittering in Louis’ eyes when the woman takes a breath and starts up again.  
  
“Louis, _please_ don’t make us listen to this the entire way,” he laughs, unable to hold it in any longer.  
  
Louis pulls on his seat belt, sits back in his seat, and then crosses one ankle over his knee like Harry’s begging has no effect on him whatsoever. “Too late, Curly. You chose this fate,” he grins as Harry puts the car in drive and pulls out onto the street with his ears absolutely bleeding.  
  
*  
  
All of Harry’s efforts spent whining and moaning about being forced to listen to Italian opera turn out to be for nothing because he and Louis talk and laugh so much on the ride to the party that it doesn’t even matter what’s on the radio. Harry is plenty entertained by trying to figure out the significance of each of Louis’ visible tattoos and whether or not he can tell that Harry kind of wants to reach over and slap his hand every time he adjusts the temperature inside the car to freezing only to shut the AC off five minutes later, causing them to boil from the inside out. Louis’ so full of energy. Like it’s compacted tight inside of his body and the only way to let it out is through making up a dumb joke or fucking with the controls on the dashboard and Harry enjoys every second of the madness.  
  
He never used to feel that way about his ex. Harry mostly just felt like he’d always done something wrong and the atmosphere was always charged with underlying tension about an argument they’d had the previous night or the fact that Nick was becoming less and less proficient at covering up his lies. Nick never found him endearing or interesting when they were together and Harry now realizes that the feeling was mutual. They were never a good fit from the start and that knowledge should’ve tipped Harry off sooner to that fact that they were never going to work.  
  
“This the place?” Louis asks when they stop outside of a house with dozens of parked cars flooding the street and driveway.  
  
“Yep. Liam’s girlfriend lives here. She’s the one who’s throwing the party.”  
  
“Aww. That’s sweet,” Louis grins at him. “I bet they’re adorable.”  
  
“They’re gross,” Harry confirms. “I’d blindfold you to spare you, but I’ve had to witness their love first-hand for years so it’s only fair that I now allow you the experience.”  
  
Louis’ hand comes down on top of Harry’s thigh and gives it a playful squeeze. “Oh, Harry, you’re such a gentleman. How’d you guess my fetish for being blindfolded?” Louis teases in response. And Harry would smile at him or say something witty when Louis removes his hand, but he’s so mesmerized by the fleeting warmth from where his palm was that he can’t do anything besides gawk as Louis hops out of the car. “You coming with me, or did you buy that outfit just to make the interior of your car jealous?” he asks, when Harry is still just staring at him.  
  
Harry looks down at himself, nearly forgetting that he’s basically about to walk into this cookout naked. Or, at least as naked as he can get without actually being nude. He couldn’t even fit his boxer briefs under these jeans.  
  
“You’re sure this is okay?” Harry checks one more time.  
  
“It’s better than okay. It’s just the right amount of sex mixed in with your good-looks and beauty to be able to call it fashion. You’re about to steal the whole show, mate. Let’s go. Get your game face on.” Louis gives him an encouraging smile before grabbing the bag of champagne from the floorboard and shutting the car door. Harry doesn’t work out that Louis just called him beautiful until they reach the door and they’re being ushered through.  
  
*  
They find Liam as soon as they step out of the back door and Harry throws his arms around him in a giant hug that nearly sends them both toppling to the ground. “Congratulations, you brilliant lawyer, you!”  
  
“Thank you,” Liam laughs as he squeezes him back twice as hard. The two of them nearly fall over again when Niall notices them hugging it out and decides to join in by throwing all of his weight into the mix.  
  
Harry hears Louis quietly laughing to himself as he watches their epic reunion even though its only been a grand total of three days since the three of them last saw each other. They let go once Liam starts to complain about not being able to breathe from how tightly he’s being embraced. Harry congratulates him again before taking a step back to stand with Louis so he can be introduced.  
  
“Boys, this is Louis. And Louis, these are my mates Liam and Niall. Liam’s just graduated again and Niall is a-”  
  
“Why the hell are you naked?” Niall blurts out before Harry can even finish his sentence, his eyes travelling the length of Harry’s torso concealed behind the thin layer of fabric that comprises his shirt.  
  
Liam rolls his eyes and apologizes to Louis for Niall being, well, Niall.  
  
“Louis, you’ll have to excuse our friend. He doesn’t have any manners,” he smiles kindly. “And what are you talking about, Ni? Harry’s not naked. His shirt is just sheer,” Liam explains after giving his outfit a quick glance over. “I think he looks quite nice.”  
  
Harry preens under Liam’s compliment and grins when Louis subtly nudges him in the ribs to show his support. Niall shoves Liam in the arm, clearly taking offence from this tone.  
  
“I never said anything was wrong with him being naked,” he says. “I mean, look at him. He looks fucking hot. I just wanted to know why he’s so dressed up. God, if only Nick could see you right now,” Niall says to him wistfully. “Where is that gangly fucker anyway? Wasn’t he invited?” he asks as he looks around with a scowl that says he wouldn’t mind it if Nick didn’t show.  
  
“Yeah, he heard about the party from everyone else, so it felt rude not to invite him. He must not be here yet,” Liam shrugs as he scans the crowd too.  
  
“Good. More alcohol for us,” Niall shrugs. He glances beside Harry after his declaration, his brow furrowing as he seems to notice Louis standing there for the first time. He eyes Louis carefully from head to toe and then raises a highly impressed eyebrow. “Who are you?” he asks in wonder.  
  
“That’s Louis,” Liam answers for him. “Harry was trying to introduce us before you interrupted him.”  
  
Niall nods, but he still doesn’t seem to be listening as he steps a bit closer and waves Liam off. “Louis, huh? Interesting. Haz, didn’t tell us he was seeing someone,” he comments.  
  
“That’s because I’m not. Louis and I are just friends,” Harry clarifies before Niall can draw any conclusions about the nature of their relationship.  
  
Harry turns to Louis who looks greatly flattered as well as amused at how interested Niall seems to be in his physical appearance at the moment.  
  
“Hi, there. Nice to meet you both,” Louis politely chirps. Liam grins politely and Niall just keeps staring.  
  
“Don’t worry,” Harry nudges him. “Nialler here is straight, or, at least he claims to be,” Harry explains with a roll of his eyes. He and Liam have questioned Niall’s sexuality on several sketchy occasions. This moment now qualifies as one of them. Honestly, what the hell is he staring at.  
  
“Um, I _am_ straight, but I know a good-looking bloke when I see one,” Niall snaps. “I might start thinking you’re straight too, Harry, since you’re apparently _not_ with Louis. I mean, what the fuck, Haz? Where did you even find him?” he asks incredulously. “I’m sorry, Louis. I’m Niall. I like your shoes,” Niall says, now reaching out to shake Louis’ hand with more enthusiasm than he ever displayed with Nick. “Where did he even find you?” he asks in awe.  
  
“Er- The clothing shop over on Arthur Road?” Louis laughs, clearly delighted. “He needed an outfit for today and then he was nice enough to invite me along once I helped him out. He picked up champagne too,” Louis says as he holds up the bag. “Where should I take it?” Liam tells him to take it inside to his girlfriend so it can be out on the refreshment table with the other drinks. Niall smacks Harry in the head as soon as Louis leaves and it actually kind of hurts.  
  
“Just _friends_?” he grimaces. “Please tell me that’s some weird homo code for fucking like rabbits. _Look_ at him! Look at his _arse_. Isn’t that supposed to be like your thing or whatever?”  
  
Harry makes the mistake of following Liam and Niall’s gazes to the roundness of Louis’ bottom as he climbs the steps to the back porch and has to make himself look away. Arses _are_ kind of his thing. Particularly ones that look like Louis’, but he and Louis are merely friends, so the fact that he has an exquisite bum attached to his equally exquisite body is sort of a moot point. “Louis’ been great. I wanted to change up my look and Louis was kind enough to help. He did a good job.”  
  
“And you didn’t think about giving him a _good job_ in return?” Liam smirks earning a look of prideful approval from Niall when Harry blushes.  
  
“For the last time, we’re not having sex. I swear, Li, you’re worse than Niall these days.” Harry didn’t think that was even possible.  
  
“What?” Liam laughs. “I’m just saying that after the shit storm you went through with Nick you deserve someone like Louis. Live a little.”  
  
“Or a lot. Live all over every surface of your flat. And his,” Niall mutters just when Louis returns with two drinks in his hands. He hands one off to Harry and smiles at the three of them.  
  
“I’m back. What did I miss?”  
  
“Nothing,” they all rush to say in unison. Louis snorts an unconvinced laugh into his glass, because that wasn’t suspicious at all.  
  
*  
“So, I’m guessing you don’t bring around many guys to events like this,” Louis says once they’ve found a quieter place to talk over by bushes, thankfully far away from his best friends and all of their prying.  
  
“Liam and Niall can be a bit much, but it’s only because they care. Unfortunately, they haven’t had the chance to torture anyone lately, so you got the worst of it,” Harry jokes with a tight-lipped grin. Louis grins along to be polite.  
  
“How long has it been?” Louis asks with kind, non-judgmental eyes.  
  
“Almost a year. No one really since Nick.” Harry feels something pitiful stirring in his gut from the admission. He’s been alone all this time, stuck and wondering why he wasn’t good enough, all because of a past relationship that he can never truly move on from. It isn’t fair, especially since Nick had no trouble at all forgetting about him.  
  
Louis steps closer until their toes are nearly touching. He reaches out for Harry’s hand and when he finally touches it he gently links their fingers together with a light squeeze.  
  
“I’m sorry he was so horrible to you.” He looks at Harry with a sadness in his eyes that quickly turns to something more defensive and protective the longer he stands there. “Please don’t waste any more of your time on that arsehole. He was an idiot for not realizing how great you are.” Harry had been feeling so down a minute ago, but now his blood is rushing with an energy he doesn’t quite understand. He doesn’t know where it came from, only that it began when Louis held his hand and that he kind of never wants it to stop. Harry squeezes his hand back and Louis’ lips pull up into a shy smile. “Harry, you deserve so much more; so much better. You deserve someone who…” Louis looks like he’s about to tell Harry exactly who it is that should get the honor to be with him, but an astonished voice from right behind Harry makes him stop and swallow the words down.  
  
“Haz?”  
  
Harry whips around at the sound and feels every floating feeling in his chest sink down to his toes when he meets the green eyes of his ex.  
  
“Nick. Hi. I- This isn’t a good time,” Harry says. When he turns to face Louis again he’s wearing a fake grin and his hand is once again by his side, no longer holding Harry’s.  
  
Nick steps in front of Harry to gain his attention back, nearly stepping on top of Louis as if he’s not even there. “I didn’t think it was you at first, but then I realized it was and I just had to come say hello. It’s been a while,” Nick says, smiling at him the way he used to when he and Harry were still good; before Nick cast him aside for somebody else. “Oh my, God. Harry, you look…Haz, you look incredible,” he sighs, his eyes still raking over him.  
  
Nick is mesmerized by his appearance. It’s just like Harry always fantasized, but getting what he wanted doesn’t feel as good as he imagined because Louis looking out of place and dejected by his side was never part of his vision.  
  
“I’m, uh, going to go talk to Liam and Niall for a bit. I’ll give you two time to catch up,” he says before giving Harry a wink of encouragement and walking away with a defeated dip in the line of his shoulders.  
  
“Who was _that_?” Nick asks as he watches Louis leave with a slight frown.  
  
Harry rounds on him with a fierceness. “His name is Louis and we were doing just fine until you came over.”  
  
Nick only seems slightly taken aback by his tone before he’s grinning again.. “Louis, huh?” Nick’s eyes follow his every step until he makes it to the group of people that Liam and Niall are talking with. He borders at the edge of the group and tries to blend in with everyone else; an impossible feat because Louis stands out and shines brighter than anyone there. “And who is he? A friend of Liam’s, surely,” he chuckles, like Harry isn’t capable of knowing someone like Louis.  
  
“No. Actually he’s a friend of _mine_ ,” Harry snaps.  
  
Nick chuckles again, condescending and so full of himself that Harry wonders how the hell he put up with Nick for as long as he did when they were together. “A ‘ _friend_ ’?” Nick glances over at Louis again, checking him out from head to toe with more interest than is considered polite. “Well, I have lots of friends and none of them look like that.”  
  
“That’s probably because all of your friends started out as _my_ friends first,” Harry spits, remembering how hurt he had been to learn that Nick’s cheating had been with someone Harry knew and was very close with at the time as opposed to some random stranger. “In case you were wondering, Louis is off limits.”  
  
“That’s fine,” Nick shrugs. “He’s lovely, but why would I want him when you’re right here, love.” Nick takes his hand in his and it feels nothing like it did with Louis a few minutes ago. Harry snatches his hand back like Nick’s is covered with poison. “Oh, come on now. Don’t be like that,” Nick purrs. “You obviously showed up here dressed like this to get a reaction out of me and you have my full attention. You clearly want to get back together and I want the same thing. You don’t have to pretend like that’s not what’s going on here.”  
  
Harry wanted a lot of things for today, but getting Nick back was never one of them. He wanted to wear a nice outfit to make him a bit envious because he never wore stuff like this when they were dating and maybe make Nick regret being such a dick, but he never in a million years wanted him back. Louis is right. He deserves so much better. “I would _never_ get back together with you.” Just saying the words makes Harry’s chest lighten, the shackles that Nick once had clamped around his heart falling away and evaporating as if they were never there at all.  
  
Harry turns to leave and Nick desperately grabs onto his arm to stop him.  
  
“Where are you going?”  
  
“Wherever I can to get away from you. Let go of me.”  
  
“Why? So you can go run over there to your ‘friend,’” Nick spits.  
  
“Yeah, actually. You’re right. Sound familiar to you, Nick?” Harry smirks before wrenching himself out of his ex’s grip and out of the memory of Nick lying straight to his face when he asked if anything was going on between him and his mate, Aiden and he assured Harry that there wasn’t.  
  
Nick yells something at him about never finding someone who will treat Harry as well as he did. Harry grins to himself knowing that it’s true, because Louis would treat him a million times better.  
  
Harry storms over to the group that Louis is still chatting and fake smiling with. He taps Louis on the shoulder and when he turns around he looks confused for just a second before Harry pulls him close with one hand braced at the small of his back and the other warm against the back of his neck. He crashes their mouths together without a single word or hesitation and Harry feels like he’s just been released from a cage that’s too small or pulled from the depths of a great ocean with how liberating it is to be in Louis’ arms. Louis sighs and Harry can taste the relief on his tongue as he presses into Harry with the same amount of energy as he approaches everything, holding onto him with desperation, but kissing him so gently that Harry feels his stomach fluttering under his influence.  
  
“Finally! _Fuck yes!_ Thank you!”  
  
Harry and Louis break apart laughing when they hear Niall loudly giving them his blessing along with everyone else who has turned in their direction to see what’s going on. Harry glances over his shoulder to see Nick seething as he watches them and it’s the most rewarding feeling in the world.  
  
“God, look at his face. He’s livid,” Louis smirks.  
  
Nick scowls at the pair of them when Louis waves. Harry gives Nick the middle finger and then turns back around to face Louis, now the only boy that’ll ever make him want to dress up and look good. He tilts Louis’ chin up to his height to initiate a new kiss; one even sweeter than the first and Harry hopes Nick enjoys his first and last ever view of his perfect arse in skin-tight, white skinny-jeans.  
  
~*~

**Author's Note:**

> I loved writing this so much, you have no idea. Hope you enjoyed it :)


End file.
